


You are nice, Mickey

by ronnie_vfs



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Fluff, Love at first sight I guess, M/M, Mickey is so cute I can't help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronnie_vfs/pseuds/ronnie_vfs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. In which Mickey accidentally helped Ian out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are nice, Mickey

Mickey was particularly slouching that day. He didn't know why, but it was like all the juice in him had been somehow spilled all over and he got nothing left, having no desire to rob, or steal, or beat the shit out of some random guy who dared to stare at his not-so-clean face. He blamed it on the weed he smoked yesterday. That shit’d been really strong. Maybe he was still too high to do anything after all these 24 hours.

So he decided to go home and have a nice little chat with his crappy bed. It was already pretty dark, but none of the street lamps were working (and Mickey had thought this neighborhood could not get any worse), so it wasn't until he was really close that he noticed there was some robbery happening around the street corner. 

Normally, Mickey would just walk right past. ‘Cause come on, it’s not like he was batman or something. And Mickey robbed people all the time. He was pretty sure there was some kind of rule that robbers just couldn't help people out of a robbery.

He darted a glance at them anyway. The poor kid got robbed was a ginger, a little skinny, with two big green eyes that were way too bright under the dim moonlight. He looked angry, of course, but not scared in the slightest which was kinda odd because those two boys in front of him were pretty big. And that was when Mickey heard him talking.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble but I really need this money. And, well, I know MICKEY MILKOVICH.”

Mickey stopped.

“Yeah, that’s right, my brother and Mickey are tight. Buddies and shit,” The redhead talked with a fucking genuine look as if he wasn't actually making all this bullshit up. “I've got his numbers. I can call him if you want.”

Mickey didn't know if he should be happy that someone was using him as some kind of threat. But judging from the hesitation those two guys were showing, Mickey decided he was. Call it vanity. Whatever.

“Hey,” He stepped outside his dark spot, grinning, “You speaking of me?”

The look on that kid’s face was priceless. Mickey couldn't define every little glimpse of those expressions though-they were changing very quickly. Mickey grinned even harder. He felt like all the energy he’d been missing today had suddenly rushed back into his body. Thank fuck.

Kid finally remembered how to speak after a whole silent minute. “Hi, um, Mickey…”

Mickey waved his explanation off (if there really were a proper explanation), and turned to those two boys. “Whatever you got from him,” he said, clenching his fists, deliberately showing off his tattooed knuckles, “give it back.”

It didn't take long before those pussies gave back the kid’s money and ran away. Mickey snorted. He’d have thought there would at least be some resistance.

“Um,” the redhead started to talk again, “Thank you… I guess?”

Mickey shrugged, turning back to his way home, and felt a little surprised when the kid tried to keep up with him. “My brother does have something to do with you, you know,” He flashed a stupid smile at Mickey, like Mickey was his friend or something rather than an infamous neighborhood thug with FUCK U-UP tattooed on his fingers. “He wrote some English papers for you, I think.”

Mickey frowned. “Lip Gallagher’s your brother?” He turned to look at that kid, taking in all his freckles and pale skin and huge green eyes and all of a sudden remembered. “You, um, you Ian?”

“Yep, that’s me,” Ian replied happily, looking terribly like some puppy wagging his tail, eyes shining with too much excitement. Mickey had to look away. “So you’d noticed me then?”

“Well it’s hard not to.” Mickey mumbled. He remembered Ian as a little kid hanging around with Lip Gallagher all day, but certainly not this tall and, well, cute. Fuck it. So Mickey was gay. And he thought Ian Gallagher was cute. Sue him.

“Anyway,” Ian continued, “It’s for our squirrel funding. The money, I mean. I worked my ass off the whole weekend washing dishes and everything. It’s really difficult to find a legal job when you are 15, you know. And we need the money, like, so bad. You couldn't survive the winter in Chicago without the heat right?”

God this kid really could talk. And yes, people could survive the winter in Chicago without the heat. Milkoviches did. But Mickey would never say that. So he just kept on walking, and kept his mouth shut.

His passive resistance sort of silence seemed to at last draw Ian’s attention. He stopped his babbling abruptly, looking at Mickey with those fucking green eyes again, and apologized sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m so annoying, aren't I?”

Mickey wanted to say yes. YOU ARE. But instead he just shrugged, and tried very hard not to stare at Ian’s bright smile and his pink lips. Shit.

“Well, that’s me,” the redhead gestured to a house not far away from where they were standing, “I have to go. So, um, thanks again. To be honest I hadn't expected that you would, um, you know, save my ass. But, uh, yeah,” he blushed a little, his voice so soft that Mickey could feel it floating across his skin, “Thank you, Mickey.”

The kid’s sincere as fuck. But truth was, Mickey just didn't know how to respond to that. Was he even supposed to be responding to that? Mickey Milkovich didn't respond to thanks. And besides, he just stood up for Ian out of sheer boredom. So it’s not like he deserved the gratitude anyway.

Mickey scratched the back of his neck, and felt very much trapped alike.

“And, by the way,” Ian grinned, eyes glistening with something Mickey couldn't quite decipher, “The way people talked about you…… I mean, I always thought you should be a really terrible person. But you are not. You are nice, Mickey.”

W-what?

Mickey startled, watching Ian’s back as he strode towards his home, the feeling of being trapped growing wildly at the back of his mind.

The fuck was that kid talking about?

+++

Mickey didn't think of Ian Gallagher when he went back home. Well, at least not too much. He dreamed about that redhead once though (involving some clumsy hands and a warm mouth), which was super girly and absolutely inexplicable and Mickey would never admit it. He may be a horny gay teenager, but he was also a Milkovich. 

And he definitely wasn't awkward at all when he ran into that Ian Fucking Gallagher again only a few days later. It was a lazy Friday afternoon, which meant snickers bars and barbecue Pringles and a couple video games, so Mickey decided to pay a little visit to the Kash and Grab. What he hadn’t expected, however, was seeing Ian sitting behind the counter. 

The kid raised his head as the door was pushed open, and beamed like the fucking sunshine the minute he saw Mickey. “Hey! Whatchya doing here?” 

Mickey rolled his eyes, and walked down one of the isles without answering. Because seriously, what kind of stupid question was that? Did people ever come to this shithole to do something other than shopping? Or shoplifting? Well, you could always fuck in the storage room if you really thought about it. But Mickey was not that horny thank you very much. 

“So, um, I talked to Lip about that night, and he said he could write the paper you asked for free.” 

Mickey nearly jumped at the sound of Ian’s voice. He turned around, and that redhead was literally just five inches away from him. Jesus fucking Christ. When did he come over here and why hadn't Mickey even noticed? 

“Fuck,” Mickey cursed under his breath, pushing the kid aside. “Shouldn't you be like, sitting behind that counter or something?” 

Ian grinned. That fucking shit eating grin. “It’s OK. Not busy anyway,” he followed Mickey to another isle, and grabbed a package of M&M from the top shelf for Mickey (which made Mickey a little irritated because the kid was only 15 but was already taller than him), “I've never seen you come here before.” 

Mickey snorted. “Yeah I've never seen you here before as well.” 

“I only started like two weeks ago. It’s not very far away from home, so,” Ian watched Mickey grabbing some snickers bars, “You like snickers bars?” 

Mickey quirked an eyebrow. “What? I like ‘em sweet.” 

It was that smile on Ian’s face that reminded Mickey that he had talked way too much. Mickey didn't like talking. And he sure as hell hadn't been planning to. It’s kinda horrifying that the kid would make him feel comfortable enough to make some small talk. 

“You got any bags or boxes I can put these in?” Mickey mumbled, dying to get out of here as soon as possible. Ian nodded, took over those snacks from Mickey, and put them on the counter. 

“Um,” Mickey was starting to have a rather bad feeling, “what you doing?” 

Ian tilted his head slightly, as if he didn't have a clue what Mickey was talking about, and to be honest, that was fucking adorable. “I have to add all these up.” 

Mickey raised his eyebrows, staring at Ian, and wondered whether or not he was just hearing things. “The fuck you were saying?” 

“You need to pay for things, Mick.” 

And now he’s getting a fucking nickname. He should be pissed, really, cause he was Mickey Milkovich and Milkoviches didn't pay for some snickers bars and coca cola. “Look, Gallagher...” 

He never had the chance to finish his lines though. Because Ian Gallagher was suddenly standing in front of him, so close that Mickey could practically feel the boy’s hot breath gently touched his cheeks, with that fucking warmth radiating out from his body and creeping into Mickey’s personal space. 

He was so shocked he completely forgot to tell Ian to fuck off. And that was when Ian raised his hand and picked up something from Mickey’s hair. 

“A leaf.” he smiled sheepishly, drawing back a bit. 

“What the... What the... A leaf?” Mickey stuttered. Yes he fucking stuttered. He was so gonna kill himself after this.

“You really should bathe more, Mickey,” Ian chuckled, “for health’s sake, obviously, not because you look dirty or anything. I mean, you look ni... OK I’m gonna stop right here.” he bit his lips, face taking on a pale shade of red, looking more than a little embarrassed. 

Mickey cleared his throat. He wanted to say something, something tough, something a Mickey Milkovich would normally said, but he didn't. He just averted his gaze instead, staring into a shelf full of watermelons, and fished out some crumbled-up bills to throw onto the counter. And before Ian could open his mouth and say anything, Mickey grabbed his snacks, and bolted out of the store.

+++

Mickey was doomed.

He didn't know he would bump into Ian Gallagher even in the fucking school. But to be fair, it was actually the place where he would most likely to come across that redhead. After all, they were both still students.

Ian seemed really happy to see him though, wearing a grin that threatened to split his face apart. “Haven’t seen you around here for a long time.”

Mickey shrugged. “I’m considering dropping out.” He didn't know why he told Ian this, but fuck it, it’s not like it was a secret.

“Then why did you come today?”

“Collect money,” Mickey said casually, “sold some weed before.”

A bunch of teenagers walked past them, glanced at Mickey, and then looked away immediately as if Mickey was some kind of Medusa and they would turn into fucking stones if Mickey caught their eyes. Mickey snorted, remembering he was standing in the middle of the hall, and started walking.

Naturally, Ian followed him. “Where’re you going?”

“The roof.”

“To do what?”

“Smoke.”

“Can I join?”

Mickey stopped, turning around to face the redhead who just smiled at him. “Don’t you like, having a class or something?”

Ian raised his eyebrows. Somehow Mickey had this feeling that the redhead was just mimicking him. “I could always skip. I hate Math anyway.”

He stared at Mickey with those huge green eyes again, expectancy written all over his freckled face. And Mickey wanted to say no. You can’t join my flying high journey. But he found it extremely difficult to say those n-words and if he was being 120% honest, he didn't want to.

What he wanted, was to share his weed with this Gallagher kid, to feel his breath skirting across his skin again, to touch those giant hands and those pinkish lips and see if they would feel as good as they were in Mickey’s dreams.

Shit. He really was gay.

Luckily, someone interrupted Mickey’s trains of thoughts before they could go south. 

“What are you doing here assface?” Mandy showed up out of nowhere and grabbed Ian’s arm the minute he was within her reach, head resting on his shoulder. Ian didn't say anything, just giving her an indulgent smile, like he was already quite used to this intimacy with Mandy, which made Mickey’s stomach churned a little.

Shit. He thought to himself. Ian and Mandy were TOGETHER.

Right. That was probably why Ian would act so warm to him the first time they met. It was never just because Mickey helped him out, it was because of Mandy.

Fuck. Mickey wanted his smoke right the fucking now.

Mandy said something to Ian, giggling like a fucking witch who just chopped off a dragon’s head or whatever. And Mickey just couldn't stay there for another split second. He stomped off, without saying anything to his sister or Ian.

He was genuinely surprised when Ian grabbed his arm and stopped him. The redhead was holding him with such force Mickey didn't know he could possibly possess, and it actually hurt Mickey a little bit. “Mickey, wait. Where are you going?” 

Mickey didn't even bother to turn to look at him. “Just fuck off.” 

He knew he sounded harsh. But what did he care? And he definitely didn't feel a slice of guilt when Ian stared him, eyes widened with obvious hurt and confusion. “Mick, what the...” 

“Yeah, Mickey, what the fuck?” Mandy cut in, looking just as confused as Ian was. 

And Mickey was so done with this shit. 

“I said fuck off for fuck’s sake!” he growled, face burning red because of that stupid anger (Or maybe it was more like jealousy. But fuck if Mickey would ever admit that). He just wanted his smoke. “Just, leave me alone, please.” 

Ian finally let go of him after what seemed like a whole fucking lifetime. “I just... I thought...” he paused, like he was trying to figure out the right words he could say to Mickey, but failed anyway. “I’m sorry, Mickey.”

Mickey thought about that ‘sorry’ when he was alone on the roof, getting his smoke at last. And he thought about the way Ian looked at him, lost like a puppy getting kicked by its owner. And it made Mickey feel bad. Real bad. Even when he was high. 

+++ 

Mickey never set foot in school again after that particular day. Or Kash and Grab. He wasn't avoiding anyone of course, he just felt like staying at home, drinking beer and playing video games and all that shit. Terry was behind the bars again, hopefully for a long time, and since his brothers weren't at home most of the time, this house basically belonged to him and Mandy now. 

It was Saturday, and Mickey was lying on the couch, playing Grand Theft Auto for like the hundredth time when he heard someone knocking on their door. He vaguely remembered Mandy saying something like a sleepover the other night, so he just put down the controller, and went to answer it. 

He just never would have guessed, for all the love of god, that it was Ian Fucking Gallagher. 

“Hi,” the redhead smiled weakly, addressing Mickey’s name with a ridiculously low voice, “Mickey.”

Mickey was completely and utterly speechless for an entire minute. He stared at that pale freckled face, throat almost burning, and couldn't help but stick out his tongue to wet his bottom lips. 

He was acting like a 15-year-old school girl and he fucking hated himself.

“Uh,” he finally managed to squeeze out some words somehow, “You looking for Mandy?”

“Yeah, well, she invited me to a sleepover. Watch a movie or something, I guess.” Ian fidgeted a little, shifting from one foot to another, “Can I come in?”

Biting the inside of his lip, Mickey stepped aside, and tried his best to stay as nonchalant as possible, grunting, “Just don’t knock her up, man.”

Ian stopped abruptly. “What?” he blinked a few times, before carefully opening his mouth, “Um, Mickey, I’m not Mandy’s boyfriend. I’m not gonna fuck her.”

Mickey felt like his heart was skipping a beat. “You are not?” he knew he shouldn't be pleased about this announcement and it was really inappropriate to talk to somebody about fucking his sister, but fuck it. Mandy wouldn't mind.

Ian shook his head and grinned, this time much more sincere than before, “Nah, I’m just a really good friend,” He must have noticed the skepticism in Mickey’s eyes, trying to find a proper way to explain all this mess, “It’s kinda complicated. I was…”

His words trailed off as Mandy shouted out loud from her bedroom. “Ian? Is that you?”

Ian sighed, mouthing ‘later’ to Mickey and turned around.

Mickey didn't went back to finish that level he was playing afterwards. He fully intended to, but was too occupied with what Ian had just said to do anything productive. It was downright embarrassing that he would be this worked up over someone he’d only met for like three or four times. He blamed it all on his fucking puberty though.

It wasn't until after 8 that Ian finally stepped out of Mandy’s bedroom, and dropped down beside Mickey on the couch. He’d taken off his jacket, wearing a plain white T-shirt which Mickey suddenly couldn't take his eyes off. Fuck. This Gallagher kid could really wear the hell out of a T-shirt.

“So, Mandy was asleep,” said the redhead apologetically, “Sorry it took so long. She made me watch Twilight.”

Mickey snorted. Damn right they watched Twilight. 

“Anyway, um, Mickey,” Ian turned his head to look directly into Mickey’s eyes. Which, obviously, made the older boy a little uneasy. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Do I have a fucking choice?”

Ian was now smirking like an idiot. “Yeah, well… Why did you get so mad at me that day?”

Mickey was so not ready for this question to come. “What, now I can’t even get mad?”

Ian let out a sigh, “Mick, come on, You know that’s not what I meant,” he hesitantly sank his teeth into his bottom lip, looking at Mickey from under his eyelashes, “I mean, on one second we were still cool, and then, boom, Mandy showed up and you started to shout at me. I don’t know, man, I was… I was pretty upset. And you didn't show up at school anymore and I thought…” he paused, for a whole fucking minute (it’s just a saying it wasn't like Mickey was actually counting), before asking, “Mickey, do you hate me?”

God. He definitely didn't hate this redhead. He was just a little pissed off, that’s all. Maybe even a little blue balled, yes, but what happened in the dream stayed in the dream so there was no way he was gonna tell the kid that. He just mumbled grumpily, “The fuck should I hate you?”

And with that, Mickey stood up, planning to get a beer. He sure as fuck couldn't get through all this talking about your feeling thing without a shitload of beers. And why would he even listen to this redhead babbling about his goddamn feelings? He probably should just swing at him and tell him to fuck off like a true Milkovich. Fuck. This kid was killing him.

But he was grabbed by the arm, and the next thing he knew, he was straddling the redhead’s lap, with Ian’s hands holding his waist, foreheads almost pressing together. They were so close Mickey could basically see the redhead’s pupil blown with pure lust, which sent a shiver directly down Mickey’s spine. 

Mickey wanted to say something. Like WHAT THE FUCK, or ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND? Because seriously, Mickey hadn't even told Ian he was gay yet. Or was he that obvious? He thought he was hiding it pretty well.

And then Ian was whispering ‘Mickey’ in an insanely sexy voice, making Mickey’s dick twitch in his jeans, and Mickey didn't exactly know how it happened, but Ian’s lips were crushing on his in a second, hands gripping at his hips so hard Mickey swore there would be bruises the next day. He just couldn't care less about it at this point.

They were both practically out of breath when they finally parted. “So,” Mickey panted, because he had to say something, or he might as well explode due to the intensity in Ian’s eyes, “You really aren't Mandy’s boyfriend, huh?”

Ian laughed hoarsely, “No, I’m not.”

“Hmm,” Mickey shifted uncomfortably on Ian’s laps. His dick was so hard it wasn't even funny. But when Ian leaned close to him to try to kiss him again, Mickey stopped him, rumbling, “Kiss me again and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

“What?” Ian was apparently bewildered, having no clue why Mickey would act like this. “Did you not enjoy it?”

Fuck yes he enjoyed it. “Just don’t.” Mickey muttered, avoiding Ian’s eyes awkwardly, and felt a tinge of red creeping up on his cheeks. Shit. What was it with this kid and so many fucking questions?

“Well, okay, if it’s what you want,” Ian shrugged, eyes roaming around Mickey’s swollen lips, “but, uh, you don’t really happen to have a knife with you at the moment, do you?”

The fuck was Gallagher talking about? “No.” Mickey grunted.

“Good.” Ian smiled at him, and then suddenly grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in real close and kissed him. 

When the redhead let go of Mickey, he grinned triumphantly, eyes lit up with so much happiness Mickey just didn't have the heart to fumble for the knife under the cushion. Well, just because he didn't have it with him, didn't mean there wasn't any knife around here. This was a Milkovich house, after all. 

And besides, if he really cut that redhead’s tongue out, who else would give him a fucking hummer now? He was dying for one.

“You know, Mickey,” Ian’s hands were stroking along Mickey’s back, his lips kissing every inch of Mickey’s exposed skin, making Mickey struggle between flinching and aching for more. The fact that Ian could still manage to speak made Mickey a little annoyed though, since Mickey himself was barely able to form a proper word right now. “You really are nice. So nice to me.”

Mickey snorted a ‘whatever’ and let Ian kiss him for the third time.

 

-END-

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm no native speaker and If there are any mistakes plz don't hesitate to tell me<3


End file.
